Project Night Vale
by SilentScriptor
Summary: Cataloged into the Laboratories "Night Vale" system, Cecil has been there his entire life with delusions of the desert community. Carlos is a new scientist placed in that sector. He thought it was interesting. He thought it was decent. He thought a lot of things until he heard "Welcome to Night Vale" being spoken through a disconnected microphone.
1. Prologue

A/N: Hey. Remember how I mentioned Night Vale in my last update for Unfinished Memories? Did I mention it? Well here it is. Another fanfiction I will be working on kind of frequently kind of not.

I thought it would he really neat to do, ya know? So yeah. If I get some reviews or just a little reads here and there I'll pursue it with more vigor than this chapter had me do. If it's nothing I might work on it whenever. I mean, I do have Unfinished Memories to finish...

So yeah. There are a lot of aspects in this AU of mine. Don't worry. Next chapter I'll write a whole little list of all these parts to make more sense. Since I'm writing this on my phone, I can't do it right now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Night Vale

...

Chapter 1

"And how old is he, Ms. Palmer?" the scientist looked up from her brightly lit computer screen at the sickly woman cradling a child close to her side. It was pathetic. If death had an accomplice to frighten his victim to his sufferings, she would be the splitting image of that terrifying result.

The scientist paused her thought process, discarding the rest swiftly. She could have pursued a greater espionage in rhetorical terms and language, but speaking in methods was prohibited in the Laboratories. Punishment for this rule was quite severe considering one was in the Laboratories for science and not English language arts. The result was having a grand amount of unidentified mystery chemicals being tested on the rebels own body.

This scientist would rather avoid that if all possible. She had work to do after all. A scientist is always efficient in their time and observant in their duty. This woman was a scientist therefore she has to follow this without hindrance and return to her duty of analyzing the pair. That was her function and everyone had a function whether minuscule or large.

Just as the mother before her had the function of raising and producing a child.

This mother didn't require much concentration from the veteran scientist. She was pathogenic and it was either terminal or she acted upon in it too late. Too late as in ignoring it or pursuing a reckless selfless abandon in the action of pushing it off too far. It might have been to provide a meal. It might have been to care for the child. Whatever the case may be, it was none of the scientist's concern. She had no reason nor any leverage meddling in the rather emotional affairs of mindless others.

What was under her care and stipulation, however, was the child the mother protected with her arm. Oh look, it appears the woman has now received a glare from the mother for just looking at her child. What is this? What is this mother trying to procure? Salvation?

Ah, salvation. Such a double-edged term for what it's worth. The scientist couldn't help but to find this virtue the woman expressed vividly amusing in a sense of humor normally parched and deserted. Protecting him from the scientist she was willing to drop her child off. Her mind and heart and body needed a common frequency to run by. It wasn't the scientist who summoned her. No, that was her own doing and yet here she was glowering at said scientist because she just got in a speed dial from reality. How... pointless. Tedious mothers and their aegis liturgies.

Hence why no parental figures or idols are allowed in the facility. A scientist is always free of emotional attachments that may ruin experiments, whether the scientist sustains the injury or the patient. Another rule to follow with fresh vigor each day. These guidelines were like virtues in the Laboratories and it was a blessing that this woman wasn't a worker or she would be ill for another reason not associated with diseases.

Nonetheless, despite the obvious display of overwrought idiosyncrasies, the child and his mother were here to present a Donator for the scientists' cause. That cause remaining unknown to even the likes of the fourth wall readers and the pair in front of her shallow eyes made of steel and ice.

Nobody knew what the goal was in the Laboratories and those who have gone to ask personally have never returned. It's rather clear that they are not supposed to know or even acknowledge it. Just pursue work and keep the Supervisor at bay. Keep the Donators coming in to test on. That was her job.

It was clear that the mother wasn't here to enter herself - not to mention that she had exceeded the age limit restrictions anyhow -and wasn't here for a nice surprise visit with a relative. Besides, she was too sickly. The Laboratories required a distinct healthy type of individual cleansed of all and any ailments while still at the age of susceptible influence. This woman violated most if not all of these guidelines.

The child, per contra, appeared to be acceptable in all of the areas listed. This is, of course, double-checked by the scientist when she peered at the records given by the City Council (everyone knows when you are born the city confiscates a piece of your existence to monitor your being) and by personally observing the toddler that would normally be in the beginnings of Education by this point if not presented for a more worthy cause as the Laboratory necessities.

The child was nothing out of the ordinary. A young boy with a peculiar set of characteristics, surely, but those were physical traits inherited by the parents lacking the precautions for this sort of mistake. His genes were a mixture of odd substances that shouldn't be mixed. But these mixture of genes also make him appear more prosaic. He appeared average, quotidian even, in the general terms of child innocence and innately personalities. A neutral or default experiment subject. A perfect one to use as a guinea pig if such an analogy would be presented.

While personal descriptions of the child would be rather pointless in terms of achieving a goal, the traits he snatched off his parents were an odd mixture. His hair was pale blonde on the top with a brown coat hugging his neck and side of his head that the scientist was unsure whether from hair dye or natural color. His eyes, a eery color of perhaps violet, or fuchsia if in the right light, watched her silently. He was skinny and pale with small freckles dotting his cheeks so faintly that, if the scientist hadn't been accustomed to seeing them instantly, would have missed their existence. The only deficiency she saw in the child was the vision, for the child wore glasses taped along the bridge as if played too roughly, but that wouldn't be too off setting for the results the scientists' had planned.

Overall, he was a good candidate and the mother was hindering any progress by staying here. She needed to leave and forget about her son. The fumes in the air should aid in her passing through the stages of obliteration. It was a blessing and a curse having those fumes for the incomers. Those not accustomed to the air, or every Donator and plus one, always forget even arriving to this place and the Donator in the building will forget about relations. It was a lovely sequence really.

Of course there were exceptions. The scientist, as all were, was vulnerable to the air in increments to become numb to the effects when she first signed up. It's so even if you leave you won't forget who you are and come back to work for another lovely day the next. Absolutely lovely and not at all boring since that would be being picky in this occupation.

A scientist had to keep thinking of the perks of the experiment. It was a must in this case for once boredom enters the mind, you will rarely want to complete an experiment or take notes at all really. If that were to happen, the Supervisor will soon after report an unfortunate accident of the said relaxant that just happens to be fatal.

This scientist was not going to be succumbed to these sort of incidents merely because a mother wasn't ready to let go of the child she herself had set up for slaughter. Oh, did she say slaughter? She meant experimenting. Better to be vague.

The sooner the mother left and forgot about her son, the sooner the scientist woman could locate the nearest Distributor to locate the boy into his new quarters.

But the mother looked torn with leaving. This irritated the scientist like a slide on a microscope having a small chip in the corner that seems small but in truth affects the entire experiment.

That being said, she, as in the mother, wasn't the first to come to the Laboratories due to some incapability of caring for the child. She certainly wouldn't be the last.

Perhaps it was the power plants in the posterior sector, but the people in this town tended to be rather unhealthy and sickly despite their perfectly able living conditions and bountiful food supply. The scientist has seen people with severe cases of poisoning or radiation with their child quickly in tow and completely healthy. Variations in the tests expressed that the fumes of the power plants in the sector particularly affect adults but not the children 16 and under. This is certainly not done on purpose and for the experimental purposes of the scientists.

No, absolutely not. Can you sense the sarcasm?

Certainly the Laboratories are not doing this on purpose. A scientist is always looking for the common good. Perhaps it is just the people and their poor lifestyles as families.

Anyhow, most scientists in the facility noticed that as many as 150 children have been dropped off or left entirely between the ages of five to twelve in the last few months. It was cataloged and tested and it seems those are the consistent statistics in the area of speaking. The parents always leave a note or come in person and glare at the scientists' for having their child when it's their fault for bearing a tiny humanoid in a world so dangerous and vile.

Is there an experiment to test the attachments people apparently hoarded? That the scientists could legally - or secretly - pursue? She should ask the Supervisor later because then this mother would definitely be the first subject.

Another note the scientist kept in her head like a post it. A scientist never forgets important information or forthcomings. That's being an air head. Metaphorically. There are those literal air heads in the WW sector but that's a whole other matter entirely. Neither were those important information. Not now anyways.

Important information was like the boys mother refusing to leave. She wasn't ready to move on. Wonderful. This scientist abhorred women who couldn't understand when their presence isn't necessary. Ms. Palmer is one of them.

"Miss Palmer, his age please," the scientist repeated again, flicking her gaze to the shaking woman with distaste before writing more statistics into a notebook for future processing.

Even when the scientist looked down to scribe the information of the subject, CP0135, into the system, the scientist could feel the said subject watch her with the utmost attention. The child never cried or screamed. He didn't seem to sense his mother's distress at all actually, almost dull to it in retrospect. He was silent and observing.

"Six years old," she paused and a rage of coughing fits consumed her. She then attempted to add in between coughs, "H-his birthday is next week." Tears were escaping her eyes like a mourning river in a forgotten cemetary. The scientist just blinked at her slowly, unsure what she wanted and not caring either way. She was used to the disarray of emotion and merely typed out the minor unnecessary information of the mother.

This scientist knew better. She wasn't picked for being an emotional wreck and sympathizer. She was a scientist and all scientists cared for were their experiments and the results they obtained without fail. Experiments. Lab tests. Statistics. These were what she was selected for. It was not for helping a sick mother cope with abandoning her son that appeared to not care in the slightest.

Tears were disgusting. Tears and emotional attachments. No one in the Laboratories were to get involved with a patient in terms of relative frequency or connection. Everyone at the Laboratories followed this rule as if God - if such a being was real - wrote it in his ancient script into their minds and genetic code.

"Could you-" the mother began and the scientist quickly side stepped the question with a request of her own.

"Identification please," she chopped up nicely and served on a silver platter, ignoring the emotions the woman was attempting to put on her. All of these bare, primate emotions that don't aid in any objective. Sadness won't get a job done. Pitying won't either. Those were the feelings and passions Miss Palmer wanted off of her like a leech. Instead it was washed off like rain drops on a windshield of a car.

Miss Palmer placed her hand on the counter, wrist up. Picking up the scanner, the Scientist proceeded to scan the ID neatly barcoded on the woman's wrist and typed a few more figures into the computer screen as the woman pierced the silence with contaminating sobs. The scientist was tempted to press the button signaling a forceful release but ceased as a precaution in case it ruined the specimen.

That would be bad for experimentation.

Speaking of him, the child looked up to his mother in confusion and curiosity. He gently tugged on her sleeve and stood stalk still as his mother enveloped him in her embrace meant to be warm and comforting. It was as if he was frozen or unaccustomed to this. Affection appeared foreign. It was this that attracted the scientists attention - not the mother.

"Cecil Palmer, correct?" The Scientist asked, watching the child now and trusting her fingers to type what she deemed necessary.

A scientist was always taking advantages to notice something strange and brilliant. Always. This was such a case. The Supervisor will be intrigued when it hears of this... or reads it. However the Messengers approach it nowadays. The last one still hasn't returned.

The mother peered up and nodded, wiping her disgusting fluids with her hand. "Yes. His name is Cecil Gershwin Palmer." She stifled another sob thankfully and the scientist typed his name once more. It was a caution in case the mother faked his name. It had happened before and resulted in the confusion of tags and results.

"Thank you, Miss Palmer. That is all. Please leave your son as is and exit the building." It was blunt and brief as she was taught. Make it cold so they don't want to remain. That is best in this situation. The sooner the mother left, the sooner the scientist could pursue in locating this child with a Distributor and Tester.

Nodding, tears strewn down the mother's face as she knelt down and looked her son in the eyes. When she opened her mouth, syllables escaped her mouth like a crash of reality. Her words were contradicting the weakness she exhibited. They were stern and like steel mixed with ice. She wanted her son to remember something when it is clear he will forget all about her when she leaves and the fumes do their duty.

"Cecil," she started, "Beware, be warned, and be wary. Please, my son. Remember this and , for all that is in this world, remember me for I know I will not reciprocate it." The boy nodded and blinked slowly. He didn't say the general "I love you" or cry for his mother's love. He just watched her. The scientist was curious the family background of this child but decided to look into it later when she doesn't have to note the child personally.

Sighing, the mother left the facility slowly and upon the doors closing silently, the Scientist pressed the button to initiate the forgetting sequence on those who recently came, the boy included. In a moment of bright light, everything settled and the boy was staring at at the scientist with a face of perplexion.

If the sequence adjourned successfully, he should remember his name, age, etc. But he will not remember his mother or any relations in fact. As far as his blank slate will conceive, he has lived here this entire life. That is, if the scientist did it correctly and she was certain she did. There was little that can go wrong when all you do is press a button.

Like all his qualities insisted, however, this child seemed to be the exception. The scientist didn't know whether to be impressed or concerned by this when he spoke.

"The light. What was that for?" He questioned. This was the first phrase the woman had heard him utter and it was the aspect he shouldn't have remembered at all. Interesting. Did he not forget?

After a minute of debating this foundation, she concluded silently that she found this more interesting than worrying. What is there to worry of? It won't change anything since the drug administered will surely change him nonetheless.

"To help you move on," she spoke, getting up from her chair to stand next to the boy. Pressing the small of his back forward towards a door to the Distributors, she noticed his movements were more robotic than smooth. He was anxious, but not scared. He was confused. "Do you remember why you are here? Who took you?" Cecil ceased his stiff steps for a second, thinking, before moving forward again with the same gait.

When he didn't respond, the scientist stopped him forcefully. This was not a simple little laboratory. This was the main one. Simple little gestures such as not wanting to give ones opinion was not allowed in the slightest, no matter the restriction of verbal words a child may know.

Cecil didn't look at her at first. The scientist could play this game as well. For perhaps five minutes they stood there with obstinacy, the scientist growing more impatient and Cecil more anxious. At last, the child conceded and turned to face her. He stared at the scientist for a long while before shaking his head slowly, looking ahead with quiet words.

'A deceiver,' the scientist noted with a smirk. 'Interesting.' It was all in the face. He wouldn't meet her eyes. He hesitated. His pulse had changed (she had kept tabs when she forcefully rotated him upon grabbing his wrist). It was all in the body and this child was too young to figure out how to control it.

Imagine if he had? Now that would be intriguing indeed, wouldn't it?

It was a new aspect in this place. No, wait, not new... abnormal. An extra variable if you will.

As far as the records foretold, every patient in this facility had forgotten what they were supposed to forget. Except Cecil Palmer, CP0135, that is. While the Scientist wasn't sure why he was the exception, she decided to let it be. Another experiment. More tests. A result she actually would like to pursue with vigor. Besides, if he remained as he was in terms of interest he will be a factor to drag in new interns in the Laboratories.

This place was in a grave need of interns and scientists. Most have been... lost to some very unfortunate events left undisclosed to the family and every worker in the facility. Very... very unfortunate events that could never involve violence of a patient, contamination, radiation, a lively monster in the Supervisor room... Never. This is a nice, clean, decent Laboratory.

She was one of the last receptionists in this Laboratory specifically actually, not that she knows what happens to the others. Not at all.

Scanning her wrist bar code, dyed blue for Laboratory access, the scientist waited patiently by the quiet child for the doors to open. It wasn't long before a loud, resounding hiss broke through the comfortable silence, revealing Distributors at their desk ready for the new subject.

"This is going to be your home now. In a minute a Distributor will come a take you to a room to run some tests. After that you will be placed in a sector and into your own room where you will prosper best. Do you understand?" The scientist spoke quickly and with no happiness as she found no reason to be happy about her situation. She was going to be blind to witnessing his tests after all and that was the part she wanted to participate the most in. She didn't want to be stuck in the receptionist area. It was relatively boring compared to what will go on behind these doors.

The boy never responded to her. When she looked down, she found him staring ahead at the Distributors but not seeing them.

"Do you understand, Cecil?"

His response wasn't to the scientist's question at all.

"I will never leave, will I?" The child spoke once more, quieter than his previous statement. The Scientist glanced at the saddened boy and a sympathetic sigh escaped her lips. She was getting too attached to him but it was almost impossible not to.

After all, he was the exception. Only time can tell how far that exception will reign.

"No. You have been donated to our cause and until we deem you unnecessary, you will remain in our care. Even when that time comes, you will be disposed of accordingly. No matter how you see it, you won't leave - at least not alive anyhow." 'Sorry Cecil,' she added silently as she nudged the boy forward again.

She didn't understand why she felt sorry for him. Perhaps this was a new kinship. She wasn't sure. Even though he barely said anything, she felt a sort of guardianship towards him. Not really friendship or parenting. Mutual. It was weird and not to mention prohibited in the Laboratories.

But when she looked at Cecil, she realized with begrudgingly expressed groans that it isn't going to be leaving anytime soon.

Not with him here.

"Are you ready?" She prodded when he didn't move.

Cecil nodded and moved forward into the door for the Distributors without looking back. His shoulders were slumped as if the entire world had crashed on his shoulders. With a loud clang, the doors clasped shut and that was the last the Scientist woman would see the boy.

When the tests for the Palmer child came back to the Distributor male, he was impressed at the results. Cecil expressed a lot of talents quite vividly compared to past subjects. Diverse. New. Different. Whatever it may be, they were intriguing and finally allowed the Distributor to access the area few children have managed to get in.

The child, CP0135, had strong vocal chords that would manifest into a deeper voice when he gets older. As for intellect, he had a surprisingly good amount of diction for his age group. Anything he was told, the child was able to repeat with words more difficult than those given to him. His imagination is especially tolerable. He would be very susceptible to influence if given in the right dosage.

And all of this for being six years old! That's rather impressive if he said so himself!

Most of the Testers and Distributors were rather interested in the new child compatible with one of the oldest sectors and also the least populated. Only perhaps 100 children resided in the area, some having been there so long that they are elders in the case of Old Woman Josie.

The Night Vale Sector. It was rather preposterous when created but it seemed the normally secluded area was going to get intriguing soon enough. On a normal basis, that sector rarely has any problems with the scientists and watchers. Seeing how this boy has transcended, it might change.

If the results were correct, the room Cecil was going to be placed in was going to end up making him a radio host. Occasionally another child or individual of his age group will be involved as his intern but they will not last long in fear of ruining him. Of course the child will only see this as an unfortunate accident! That can be easily arranged.

As the Distributor male led Cecil to the sector, he noticed the child becoming rather seclusion and quiet. This wouldn't do well. Children were supposed to ask questions or even cry about their parents. Not half an hour earlier he had brought another boy here who looked almost exactly like him (Kevin maybe?) and he talked the entire way there. That kid was going to the Desert Bluffs sector though.

Cecil was practically the opposite of him. He hadn't even spoken a word since the receptionist had brought him in. Perhaps the Distributor should initiate some sort of topic?

"So, Cecil," the man began, "Your sector will involve you being a radio host. Wouldn't that be neat?"

"Neat," the boy repeated to himself and nodded with a small, sad smile, "Yes, that would be lovely I guess. I've always wanted to be like Leonard on the radio but mum always said I was too good for it."

"Did she now?" The scientist replied smoothly, nodding in the direction of a fellow Distributor coming from the DW sector.

"She explained I was meant for bigger things than being confined in a little recording booth. But... I suppose she doesn't matter, does she?" The Distributor was impressed. This kid was six years old. He shouldn't be able to speak this fluently and with all these words at that. Granted he did excell in diction, he was only six!

"Will I be alone?"

The scientist was silent. As a Distributor he had no say, but as a scientist he was curious how this would effect the patient. Curiosity was fuel in this Laboratory. And, as always, scientists always take advantage of new information. "Yes. You will be alone but all the inmates will hear your broadcast each day."

A small "oh" escaped Cecil's lips as his shoulders hunched. Chewing the side of his cheek, the scientist allowed a little of human morality to appear. Just a smidgen. Nothing more!

"Would you like to pick your wardrobe for when you are here? Not many get to do that. We can even get you some new glasses." The scientist Distributor hoped no one would snitch of his actions as he did a detour to the wardrobe room. As it was, he was unsure if it would affect the boy that much since no reply was given immediately.

When he did speak, it was almost hurt. Ouch.

"Why do I need to alter my clothing?" He asked softly and the Distributor sighed, wondering if this was best. Great. Now he felt offended. Damn it.

"Look at you! Your pants barely fit you and your shirt is full of holes. In the wardrobe at the Laboratories we have any style you wish to have. Keep in mind the one outfit choice you have will result in you always having such a wardrobe." With that, he opened the door to the room and watched the boy go through each rack of clothing.

The Distributor wondered silently if he was violating any of the rules. He wasn't getting attached to the boy. He was performing his duties as a Distributor. He wasn't getting fond of the uncertain child. That was prohibited. That was one of the big three rules! Pfft. No way he was becoming a softy. Definitely not.

"Here."

Blinking, the Distributor male looked down at what the child was holding. It was a pair of trousers with a purple button up shirt the color of his eyes along with a black vest over top. This clothing was often rejected and placed in the back so the Distributor wondered how the child found it so quickly and strikingly well for his form.

"Are you sure?" He double-checked and the child nodded. "Alright. Let's get you some glasses. These ones appear outdated. I will grab some that fit you and you can tell me if they appear right." Cecil agreed to the request silently and the scientist quickly left and came back with a pair of purple glasses with the top of the frame gone, leaving the bottom to support the lens. When handed to the boy, he put them on and appeared to like them.

Grabbing a comb and other toiletries, the Distributor led the boy to his room. He appeared a little less reclusive. Good. A little more perceptive to the drug hopefully! Maybe his little spur of humanity wasn't all for naught!

When they arrived at his room in the sector, the Distributor looked down at the child and proceeded to type his code into the door resulting in it unlocking with a loud hiss of restricted air.

The room was set up to appear for whatever likings the patients preferred therefore it wasn't too surprising seeing it in purple. Mostly everything was that with mixtures of black and white neatly arranged. In the corner of the room rested a nice queen bed the boy would grow in. On the opposite wall was a desk with a recording set. A small tape recorder was placed on an end table at the edge of the bed. A small book case with various books adorned the wall. Lastly, there was a wardrobe where his outfits would be placed.

No electronics besides the recording set. The scientists thought this would mess with his system. They didn't want him to hear of the outside world. That would end up ruining his influence. If he was going to be the voice of Night Vale, everyone would listen to him and from there a riot would spread. That's what happened in the HG sector last year.

The Distributor shuddered, thinking of all the bodies that were strewn across the floor like dolls.

But this what Night Vale. This was Cecil Palmer. Surely he would be a good kid and radio host, yeah?

Oh! Right. The rest of the room.

Two doors were also in the room besides the one the duo had entered through. One was to the bathroom and the other to a closet for only the Scientists. In it was equipment to designate and place the medication for a successful influence. They were similar to medical supplies for vitals but with more tubes and needles than perhaps necessary. Since the Distributor assisted with the boy this time, he would administer the dosage.

"Place your clothing at the edge of your bed and get under the comforters. We have a strict bed time here for inmates and yours is about to arrive." Cecil quickly got into the bed and under the covers, his arms resting on top of the purple comforter.

Using the bar code on his wrist, the Distributor unlocked the closet and pulled out the tools. Cecil watched with no expression. Small notions of tugging at the covers showed his restricted fear. He was only a child after all. Not a mastermind.

The scientist grabbed the syringe and pressed the plunger lightly to see if it was still usable. It was thank god. He didn't want to call in SC to request another syringe. The scientists there were complete asshole sometimes.

Shaking his head, he sighed and proceeded with his work. When he dragged the vitals machine and rack with bags of the influential drug, Cecil seemed to get tense as all subjects do.

"This won't hurt a bit," the Distributor assured the boy as he grabbed his arm and began attaching needles and tubes to the boy's body. After assigning them, he wrapped the body parts in a light coat of gauze and bandages to prevent him pulling them out on his own or in his sleep. Pressing a button, the scientist watched the drug course through Cecil and the follow up reaction of droopy eyes and confusion.

Within minutes he was asleep.

Sighing, the Distributor male turned off the lights and left the room, absent-mindedly scanning his wrist on the scanner to lock the door.

As he left, he began to hum, looking through each window to make sure each inmate was sound asleep.

He paused when he spotted Josie watching him through the window. She was so old that she didn't need to be administered anymore. She was already too potent of it that it didn't matter.

Walking up to the old woman, the Distributor hesitated before sleeping, "It's your bed time Josie."

The old woman blinked slowly.

"Uh... Josie? Don't make me get the sedatives. You know I will."

Blinking slowly again, she opened her mouth, "the Angels have spoken to me again. They say Cecil Palmer is going to become something more than anyone thinks. They say he is going to rise to the occasion. They speak a lot." With a few more mumbles that the Distributor couldn't make out, Josie walked away from the door and to her bed.

It took a second for the Distributor to do the same and walk away. A rise to the occasion? Josie is probably just speaking nonsense.

Besides, Angels are not real.

Sighing, the Distributor resumed his humming with more force as he walked down the corridors. As a final thought he glanced back at room 0135 and added aloud.

"Welcome to Night Vale, Cecil Palmer."


	2. Chapter 1

_A/N: Remember how I said that I wouldn't work on this if it wasn't that popular? Yeah, that's what happened this time around except I kind of stepped back from internet entirely, not writing or doing anything because the muse was just not there._

_But now it is and I have finished yet another chapter. I don't like saying this, but if I can get at least 5 reviews I will try my damnest to get another chapter out sooner than this one. Honestly, I would be happy with just one review though since I don't think this is nearly as good as it should be._

_Okay, for warning because I know a few nit-pickers will point this out if I don't explain this now. Cecil is a special case when it comes to his vocabulary. Normal six year olds will not speak this fluently. However, he is exemplary in his vernacular as the testing in the first chapter prove him to be. That being said, he will seem a little older for his age when he talks at six._

_It's going to start out weird because they will be age-skipped-broadcasts kind of. The ending will be the beginning of the real story._

_Enjoy._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Night Vale._

* * *

Project Night Vale

Chapter 1

_Hello… people. Who are you? Humans? Monsters? There is no name for those I have yet to see. I don't know who you are, or happen to be, but I know who I am for certain. I know what I am. I am alone. I also know a lot of facts, as the scientists like to say. My mum is gone and she isn't coming back._

…

_The scientist woman wants me to give my name and age. She's making all of these faces and none of them pleasant. I might as well do it. She won't let me have my meal or leave the room until I do. _

_My name is Cecil and I am six years old. It's funny I think – this number six I mean. My mum told me my name meant blind and sixth. I'm six now. I'm six and I guess I'm blind. I can't see her. Is that what blind means? I don't know. I didn't go to Education. Mummy couldn't pay for it and now I guess she never will… won't she?_

_I'm sad. I miss mummy. I miss her hugs and smiles. I didn't hug her when she left even though she always did so for me. I don't know why I didn't. It felt weird. It was scary and it felt wrong and final and I didn't understand how to take it and I wish…_

_The scientist woman is telling me to calm down and continue after that point. She didn't look like she liked me mentioning my mother. Is it bad? Everyone makes it that way. They say I'm supposed to forget her. How do you do that? Forget your mum? It seems rather impossible, but I guess not everyone is like me. _

_The scientist wants me to do this. To record me. I'm too little for the big machines so I'm using a tape recorder. It's neat. I like it. But it's lonely. I'm alone. I don't want to be alone. I want friends. I want mum. I want people. Not the scientists. They are mean. They are cold. They don't care. And I don't think any of them like me at all._

_Nobody does now that I think of it. That's why I'm alone. I heard this from a boy named Kevin. He's taking medicine to keep him happy. But, he didn't take it before he went to eat and he found me. He looked really sad. I wanted to help him. I wanted to make him feel better. I wonder if he remembered his mummy. And if so, if he missed her? Does he have one?_

_Kevin looks like me. Scientists confuse us a lot. He has orange eyes though. He also has scars on his face. When I asked him he told me that I have more than him because I'm not wanted. I'm not wanted and that's why mum left me and abandoned me. He said I was alone and no one will ever love me. I will forever be that lonely kid. That's what he told me but the scientist put him on happy medicine and he was back to normal. _

_Is it normal?_

_He… He didn't remember telling me that. Any of it I think. He just smiled at me and shook my hand, dazedly walking away with a wide grin on his face and laughter following him._

_He scares me._

_The woman is tapping her watch. I think that means I should stop._

_I'm Cecil Palmer. I'm six years old. I'm blind and sixth but not really. I think I just don't understand. I want to. Maybe I can understand why mummy left me. Why I am alone now._

_I…I miss hugs._

_OoOoOoOoOoOo_

* * *

_My name is Cecil Palmer and I am nine years old. While I'm not sixth anymore, I still am blind it seems. I have been taking Education in the Laboratories along with tests and it seems I'm smart. I get things quicker. I can make bigger words and produce a greater vernacular and grammar than most children my age. I'm not happy with this development. _

_Being smarter makes people not like me more. No one likes a smart alec._

_I asked the scientist when I can use the machine they said when I'm older. I've been here for three years. I've been without mum for three years. I still miss her. I want her to hold me. I want a lot of things._

_An old woman named Josie talked to me today. She says she sees angels. What are angels? Mum always talked about this man called God but scientist say he isn't real therefore angels are not real. They don't like us talking about them in public but Josie and I are good at being sneaky._

_She says an angel watches me and keeps me safe. I asked who and she just stared over my shoulder. She says it is a black angel that watches over me and repeated it while walking away. I'm confused. Why an angel. What are angels? I want my mum to watch me. Not an angel I can't see and don't know of._

_My birthday was last week and the scientists gave me a small cake and left the room. No candle. No happy birthday song. No presents. _

_It was lonely._

_I miss people. I miss mummy. I will always miss her I think. Most of all, I miss love I suppose but I don't know what that is really. I've seen patients hold hands and other things but I've seen friends say it. What is love? Is it a thing? Is it a feeling? _

_I'm confused. I have always been. Kevin leaves me alone. He seems to like to talk amongst himself with people called Vanessa. I can't see her but Kevin sees her. _

_I want a friend. Even an imaginary one is better than being along in a room where all you have is your voice._

_Bed time is coming soon. Good night Night Vale. Good Night._

_OoOoOoOoOoOo_

* * *

_If at first you don't succeed, look around and find out who is trying to sabotage you with telepathic interference. It is someone you know._

_Hello, my name is Cecil Palmer and I am now thirteen years old. Scientists told me to begin practicing for my radio thing. I'm worried. How do I do this? Do I speak? Should I be like Leonard on the radio? I don't want to disappoint the scientists. Then I get more drugs and they make me feel weird and see even weirder things._

_I don't know what is real anymore. Sometimes when I leave my room I see a desert community but for the most part it is the Laboratory corridors. Patients start to look like happy citizens even though I know they are not happy. The cafeteria looks like a diner. It's a terrible feeling and I hate it. I don't want to change._

_I need to stop talking about this before they give me another shot._

_(sigh)_

_When I'm eighteen I will be able to use the recording studio for my broadcasts. That's pretty cool. Pretty neat! Neat… no not neat… ah, where was I?_

_Oh yes, Night Vale! I'm sure many of you are ever so curious about our prospering little desert community! I know I am for I am their voice and update you on their goings on._

_An interesting thing has been happening, listeners! I have been getting interns. It seems Station management… er… scientists. The scientists, not station management. Where did that come from? Anyhow, I have been getting new interns. I mean it plural since they tend not to last long oddly enough._

_I've had three interns so far… no… kids my age. Not interns. Why am I confusing the two? Clearly they are not the same. Interns want to be here, that's why they are interning here. These kids don't want to be here. WE get along splendidly, we do, but it seems I have a reputation with interns I'm not aware of. How abstruse dear listeners. Abstruse indeed!_

_Let's see... there was a boy named Chad. He was the first. He didn't last long though I had sent him to get some information on the oddities in the sports store of our… (cough cough) Um… excuse me. Not the sports store, I meant the gym in the Laboratories. I sent him and he never returned! Perhaps he got lost? No one mentions him or answers my questions so in that case I'm going to assume that dear Chad has died. Or is playing a good game of tennis, but likely the first._

_Jerry soon followed afterward… It's rather uncannily odd. Reporting on the whereabouts of the community is an easy task for new interns, but maybe he just stopped for a snack? Odd indeed._

_As of now, I have Stacey! Lovely dear Stacey. She's a wonder, listeners! I would have her introduce herself to all of your eager ears, but as of this moment she's going to get the scoop on some new aspect in our community! Seeing as I am a newly administered radio host in this promising community, I have yet to be informed of this new aspect called "Street Cleaning Day". _

_(cough cough)_

_Wait. This is weird. I think I'm unaware of my alternations from reality to this… other land. Night Vale, it seems I'm becoming for accustomed to that place than here… in this room…_

_Before I revert back, "Street Cleaning Day" is… I'm honestly not sure. That was one of the most honest parts before. I did send Stacy, the little girl who has recently been stationed in my room, to ask the scientists… but she hasn't returned yet. Why is that I wonder? I've been hearing these awful machines and I swear to whoever is out there that there was a scream and piercing shriek just now…! _

_I… I don't think I like this "Street Cleaning Day", listeners. Not at all. If anybody listens to this recording after I put it down, know to stay in your quarters… hmm… homes. I meant homes. Please remain in your homes until the loud clashing, buzzing, and screeching as subsided into pleasant silence. This is not only advice from myself, but also a request from the City Council._

_Goodnight listeners, Goodnight._

_OoOoOoOoOoOo_

* * *

_Ask your doctor a question. Receive an answer. Shiver. Think about the answer. Shiver. Think about the answer. Think about it. Shiver._

_Welcome to Night Vale!_

_Hello, listeners! You will be pleased to hear that a new sector will be added to the Laboratories today! It seems we will finally be getting a library! I'm sure most of you probably miss those black, block letters scrolling across your vision so elegantly and pristine. Perhaps a little too much? Perhaps not enough?_

_As of this recording, I am sixteen years of age. I am still Cecil Palmer. Now that that is out of the way, let's move on to some news. _

_To start things off, I have been asked to make some corrections to my past recordings. Particularly the differing information I have been delivering. Station Management has been growling behind their darkened doors for the last week over this distressing mistakes and I am here to put them to rest and settle them once and for all._

_First, there is the fact of our home and community. This is, in fact, Night Vale. A friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. I apologize dearly for ever believing our desert could ever be a Laboratory! How absurd and rather blindly misinterpreted might I add. No, please don't despair over your precious reality, dear listener. We are in Night Vale as we will always be in Night Vale._

_Secondly, the existence of scientists. There are a few scientists in Night Vale, but they are not used for harm! That is one mistake I have been rendering constantly. Some of those individuals I have claimed to be such beings have actually been citizens of Night Vale! Outstanding, hard-working citizens that I have naively attached slander towards. I cannot distress how much this saddens me, loyal citizens! For those of you who have been succumbed to such harassment, I apologize dearly._

_Oh! We have a new resident in Night Vale today, listeners! He wouldn't offer his name when I asked, but he refers himself as the "Indian Tracker". His appearance could have fooled me. He looks like he is of Slavic origin and yet he wears the absurdly cartoonish Indian headdress. I'm not sure if he means to proclaim the racial mistakes he has been showing._

_It seems I'm still not going to be touching that radio station yet. I still have quite a bit to go, but Station Management has informed me that it will occur in some event of my lifetime. I can't wait to speak to all of you._

_I got a new intern today. She is just a dear. Her name is Dana and she's probably the first intern I have had that actually likes to be here! Now I don't know about you, but why would you apply to intern somewhere if you're not going to enjoy it? It seems rather redundant, right?_

_But as they always say: To each their own and if not of their own then of the one who controls them._

_Anyways, Dana has been here for only a few hours today but she will be returning tomorrow and the day after and it's nice having someone here. A lot of my past interns have gone… missing._

_But that's another topic altogether that I would like to refrain from relaying too long._

_Hm… it seems I have to cut off here. Perhaps I'll continue later on?_

_Who knows?_

_Good night Night Vale, Good night._

_OoOoOoOoOoOo_

* * *

_Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are? What are you? Tell us. We have your family. You aren't safe from us little star._

_Welcome to Night Vale._

_I'm happy to say that this is my official first broadcast using the installed recording studio! Do you hear my voice, listeners? I can't wait to hear your own. This is the start of a new age and I will record every step of the way. Of you. Of your family. Of Night Vale._

_Oh, and me? I will be your guide and friend, Cecil Gershwin Palmer. As of now, I am 18 years old. _

_Sadly, it seems I cannot record long for your ears. I have other things to do! So many events to report on, too many to lose. I'm sure you understand. I'm a radio host and I have to do what I do best to not disappoint you._

_On other news, it seems our rivals, Desert Bluff, are becoming rather obnoxious. This isn't coming from me personally. Old Woman Josie told me this the other day when she and I had a lovely afternoon brunch. Her so-called angelic friends that are definitely not the biblical kind, have whispered to her about their mischief and they have never lied to us before might I add._

_It isn't so much what they haven't been doing as much of what they have been doing to alter what they haven't. It is said that it is a very hot, sunny place where grins and disgusting optimism resides heavily with pretense. The City Council has forbade anybody to go to Desert Bluffs. If you have family who live in the area, say your farewells accordingly for they are not yours to call family anymore. _

_Shame on you Desert Bluffs, shame on you._

_That is all I have to report today. Actually, it's all I have time to perform. It seems I have been called for Reeducation. I shall see you tomorrow, pleasant listeners._

_Goodnight, Night Vale. Good night._

_OoOoOoOoOoOo_

* * *

_-Present time-_

When he wakes up, Cecil peers up to smile at the male who is certainly not a laboratory scientist. The man behind the mask merely blinks at the young adult before offering a small nod. A few little movements of fiddling with technology and chemicals resounded next to him as he redialed numbers and such.

But Cecil was used to this. Each morning waking up to some level of change before being subjected to sameness. It was all so normal. Maybe a little too normal.

A little change would be nice. Not too much or adapting would be unbearable, but enough to keep things interesting. Perhaps he could talk to Josie about this. She always did offer the best sort of imagination in times like these.

The man tapped his shoulder and Cecil glanced up. The mask of the sci- doctor wasn't pulled down, but he could still hear him clearly.

"You are to go eat breakfast in half an hour. I would advise you to eat a healthy breakfast. The… station management has not been pleased with your lack of appetite towards their oppressions." Cecil cringes at this mentally. He knew better than to get on the bad side of Station Management. He's had 16 years to perfect his image in their eyes and to reduce their growls to low grumbles of occasional distaste.

To hear that they have been not impressed by his behavior is a sign that he needed to do all he could to rapt the good graces of his employers. If Station Management maintains their displeasure too long, Cecil will surely face the consequences and the last thing he wants is for the Secret Police to come and take him to get Re-Educated. Those are the worst and Cecil had to hold back a shudder from the last time he was subjected to their methods.

He hated being Re-Educated. Everyone with a mind and some level of pain sensors in their bodies abhorred the process. However, it is mandatory for those who don't comply and Cecil was surely not the most innocent of teens in his stages of hormonal pubescent progression.

"Is it understood, CP- Cecil Palmer?" Cecil caught the correction but made no remark on it. He was used to being addressed both ways and completely understood by this point that the numeric code for his name is only for the medical doctors to give him his daily dosage of medicine. It was perfectly normal and he had nothing to fear. Of course not.

'_No, you have everything to fear.'_ A little voice spoke in the back of his mind that he promptly ignored. '_They are not who they seem to be! Don't be fooled!'_

Fooled? Please. Cecil knew Night Vale like the back of his hand and even more so. There was nothing this pleasant desert community could fool him about! He knew each and every citizen as well as the stores and convenience areas posted around. There was no way that Cecil could be deceived by this wonderful environment. Whatever that stray thought had murmured clearly was a sign that he should eat like the good doctor mentioned.

Although Cecil doubted that eating would aid in anything. The voices came and went as they pleased and no amount of health would restrict that.

Still, he hated those voices. He hated the fact that a part of him wanted to reach out and agree with their assertions. He hated the growing feeling of loneliness and the aspect of being lied to. And all of this stemmed from those cursed voices in the back of his head that he never even wanted or asked for. Vicious little remi- disturbances that always seem to ruin his mood in the most inappropriate of times.

For Cecil was happy. He was! He had the best job one of his stature could ask for and even managed to make a few good friends with Old Woman Josie and Dana. He had no reason to _not_ be happy. Everything was fine and as it should be.

'_As it should be,'_ echoed his thoughts sadly. Again, he ignored them.

"Mr. Palmer?" Cecil snapped his head up at the calling of his name. By this point the man was putting away his tools – or was he thrusting an IV line into a closet? Cecil could never tell – into his bag and was standing to leave. "Is everything alright? Something I should know about?"

'_If I were to tell him I'm hearing voices it could end quite badly. It may even take away my job for a while which would make Station Management even more angry,'_ Cecil assessed quietly so he shook his head with a smile, sitting up and stretching.

The doctor eyed him for a while before nodding and dismissing himself. Cecil waited until the door was closed before he got up. Walking towards the bathroom, he took care of his usual business and walked out twenty minutes later in a brand new outfit, refreshed, and ready to start the day.

When he looked himself in the mirror, he grinned at his good taste in clothing. Dress slacks, a purple button up (As always!), and a splendid grey vest. It was lovely. His hear was of course brushed to perfection as he always managed to get it. Purple eyes shown back at him vibrantly and he couldn't help but smile wider.

He briefly rotated his body to check and make sure all was at its best. This, of course, eventually led to his gaze falling on his pale arms.

He glanced at his arms, uncovered and bare. Well, not exactly. When he was 15 he started getting these markings that swiveled around his arms and left patterns. He contacted the doctor immediately, of course, but the man merely said that they were tattoos and nothing to worry about. That maybe in a drunken haze, Cecil had decided tattoos were the best at the time.

Cecil agreed with him, disregarding the fact that he didn't drink.

But they were a cool little addition, which even was in Cecil's favorite shade of purple. He didn't see any reason to complain. He was a little confused why they resembled tentacles of some sort, but he didn't feel the need to remove them. He liked them for they were a neat break up of all his pastels.

Placing his glasses along the bridge of his nose, Cecil flicked off the lights and stuck his wallet in his pockets before leaving.

It was always odd when he left his home. Sometimes when he was truly tired and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, he would see the outside as corridors of a laboratory. Rows upon rows of numbered doors would line his vision, touchpad locks barring him from visiting the others in this frightening experience. The floor would be like metal grates and everything around him would seem too small for comfort.

Those were nightmarish moments that he would love to go on without. It was so weird. Cecil always knew that he was in his desert community though. He didn't need anybody to correct him of that. He was a citizen of Night Vale, no some test subject for an unknown organization. Even he isn't that oblivious.

Nonetheless, each morning they gave him a fright. Each morning they delivered themselves without fail as if trying to assert him of something.

'_Like the voices,'_ He thought as he opened the door and pulled it open.

This time was no different than those other times, even taking a little longer before the Laboratory feel faded out to his warm community. The metal around him turned to the desert environment, metal grates turning to sand and constricting ceilings dissolving to a free sky. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and people were already getting out of there pretense of sleep to meander through society.

Every so often Cecil thought he saw some of his fellow citizens looking gaunter, possibly resembling death and illness, but then he would blink and they would be greeting him and waving him by like every other morning. They were no longer the epitome of the reaper and his ailments. They were happy citizens that were perfectly healthy. No need to worry.

After the twentieth time of this happening, Cecil resorted to keeping his eyes on the sidewalks, sighing to himself at the absurdity of this. Something must be wrong with him. Perhaps Cecil should have brought the voices up if the effects are getting this bad.

'_No, please don't,'_ The voice pleaded and it sounded so child-like, so much like him. '_You will be erased again. The medicine will get rid of you.'_

Get rid of him? That didn't even make sense! The medicine was _helping_ him. These voices were getting out of control. If anything this voice is making him want to pursue it even _more_.

Sighing, he made his way to the diner and pushed the door open. A fresh little ding marked his entrance as he made his way over to the same booth as every other morning. Across from him sat Josie, murmuring as always. She seemed focused on a certain little spot across from her in the booth.

Cecil was about to sit down when she held out her hand. "Stop. Erika is sitting there."

He blinked slowly and then smiled. "Of course. I apologize Erika." Josie smiled at him sincerely as he scooted over to make way for the obviously non-holy being that could never be an angel.

One of the waitresses came over and asked for what they wanted to start off with. They each replied with their usual. Cecil with a nice cup of coffee – black and two sugars – and Josie with peppermint green tea. The waitress nodded and walked off, avoiding the hooded figure that sat perched on one of the bar stools.

"So, how are you doing on this lovely morning, Josie?" Cecil smiled and thanked the waitress as she delivered their beverages. Lifting the mug, he sipped it while watching the elderly woman do the same.

"I am splendid today, dear. Thank you for asking," she smiled and then motioned Cecil closer. He obliged willingly for normally when she did this it meant she had some information that he could relay over the radio later. Any information was always welcome after all.

When he was close enough, he noticed the spark of excitement in her eyes. "Did you hear about the new young scientist that came to Night Vale? I hear he's quite the looker!"

Cecil chuckled and rolled his eyes. "That's what you say about every single good looking man, Josie."

She shook her head feverently. "No, no. I mean it! Maybe someone good enough for you! Here. I have a picture of him."

"Josie!" Cecil exclaimed with a surprised giggle as she brought out her phone and showed him a picture of the supposed newcomer. Shaking his head, Cecil grasped the small cellular device and adjusted his glasses to see the image clearer.

Josie wasn't kidding in the slightest when she mentioned how incredibly good looking he was!

And wasn't he a handsome caramel delight! Dark skin, a nice build, and that gorgeous hair he modeled so splendidly! Oh my, it was practically love at first site to Cecil. He had a few touches of gray around the temples, but that despaired nothing. Cecil was already in love with the man and he had never even met him!

"What is his name?" Cecil whispered and he blushed furiously as Josie exchanged a knowing look. She had been around for most of Cecil's crushes and knew when he was in a new one. That may have been her intentions for all he knew. She always did say that he needed to settle down and start a family.

Josie took the phone back gently and smirked deviously. Cecil never knew an elderly woman could look so mischievous before then but Josie proved him wrong. "His name is Carlos. He is a nice man. I'm sure you will absolutely adore him…" she paused and smiled. "If you haven't already that is. Did you want me to send you the picture?"

"Yes!" Cecil quickly replied before hiding his flushed face behind his hands. "I-I mean, if you could? That would be lovely. For the broadcast later. Only for the broadcast. You know how the listeners love descriptions of hand- newcomers."

"Of course it's for the broadcast, dear." Josie patted his hand and grabbed her cup of tea. "I'll send it to you in a while. I have to attend something with Erika. He says farewell."

"Bye Erika," Cecil mumbled behind his hands, taking deep breaths to cool his face.

Okay, Cecil, you have got to calm down! Yes, he is good looking. Okay, maybe hot hot hot more like. But you have a job to do. Now is not the time to start obsessing over your latest crush! You haven't even met him at all so how can you know you will like him?

"Hey are you okay?" Someone's hand landed on Cecil's shoulder and the broadcaster nodded. Great, he was making a scene. Better thank whomever decided to check on him. Slowly removing his hands, he turned around to thank whomever it was and froze in the middle of smiling.

Oh no.

Cecil couldn't do this. Oh God he just got over obsessing him for that moment! And now that man – Carlos – was standing in front of him, his hand slowly retracting. He looked surprised and a little worried. Was he worried over Cecil? Oh goodness that is absolutely embarrassing!

And yet Cecil couldn't even thank him and tell him everything was fine, too busy observing the differences between the image he saw not a minute ago and the real life thing.

The picture didn't do Carlos justice. He was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. The adorable little quirk of the brow when he is confused and those warm brown eyes. Oh goodness. And Cecil couldn't even make him look away from those luscious locks. It was captivating. Everything about Carlos was enthralling.

It's fine though.

Cecil can do this.

He can definitely do this.

Just play it cool.

Carlos got closer as if to check his temperature and Cecil's face flushed up immediately at the closeness. "Are you alright? You look a little red."

Cecil couldn't do this.

Why did he think he could?

Cecil quickly stood from his booth and took a step back, forgetting about his coffee entirely. He offered a smile that he hoped wasn't shaky or nervous. That would be mortifying! "Y-Yeah. I'm fine! Totally fine. I'm just… busy. Very busy. You know how time tends to go…"

Turning swiftly, Cecil started quickly walking towards the diner doors, feeling like an idiot the entire way. Here was his recent crush talking to him and he was fleeing! If Josie saw him right now she would be scolding him beyond belief!

The young radio broadcaster's face might as well be stained red for all its flushed glory permitted. He felt a warm prickle of angry tears threaten to spill from his eyes and he fought back fiercely, quickening his pace as he fled the diner.

He heard someone shout his name but he was already out the door.

Once he got back to his little studio, he rushed past Dana and locked the doors behind him. He gently slid down the locked doors and let the tears come.

Idiot! Why couldn't he have acted normal? Why couldn't he have said thank you and asked him about his day or even just about the weather?! Cecil was so angry at himself. Beyond angry at himself.

"Cecil?" A little voice called on the other side of the door once his crying stopped. It was Dana. Good Dana. His longest intern and the one he loved the most out of all of them – although he would never say this out loud! One should never express their favorites aloud.

Wiping his face and calming his breathing, he cleared his throat and replied hoarsely. "Yes?" Even though he didn't sob loudly, only crying silently, it seemed the deep breathing to calm it had left his voice worse for wear.

She paused. He knew Dana enough to know when she did that she was probably fiddling with her intern ID in worry. He smiled fondly as she replied. "Your broadcast starts in five minutes."

Cecil nodded to himself before calling out. "Thank you, Dana."

When he stood, he dusted his pants and fixed his attire before unlocking the door. The Station Management didn't approve of privacy and the last thing Cecil wanted today was to make them angrier than the doctor already told him they were.

He rubbed his eyes some more and thanked whatever was out there that his broadcast was not visible otherwise he was sure his eyes and cheeks would be an embarrassing shade of red.

Sitting in his chair, Cecil scooted up towards the microphone, preparing to pull a few switches to start the broadcast.

'_Time to get to work,'_ He thought to himself, smiling at the feeling of normalcy.

'_Time for you to obey whatever your masters demand of you, you mean.'_ The little voice spoke bitterly and Cecil felt the emotion slip into his tone as he practiced what was given to him on the papers this time.

He immediately pushed the thoughts back.

'_I don't care if you make yourself known outside of my broadcast, but do not interrupt me during it.'_ Cecil thought fiercely.

The little voice paused before speaking softly. _'It's not like any of this is real. Right now you are speaking into a disconnected microphone and you don't even know it.'_

Cecil hesitated for the briefest of moments before disregarding the statement entirely. He was certainly not speaking into some disconnected microphone! He would know this, wouldn't he?

For a second he panicked and then he sighed.

Later. He didn't have the time to think about this now.

Tapping the microphone, Cecil took a deep breath and began his broadcast.

* * *

_A/N: So that is that._

_Now, I know some of you may question his reaction to Carlos in this chapter but I swear it is intentional. I wanted him to over-react a little in the presence of Carlos. Normally when he crushes on someone, it is someone he has known for a while. Carlos, he just barely met and not even that much! It's kind of frightening a little if I do say so myself._

_Most of Cecil's over-reacting was the fact that he was trying to control his crush feelings and then being frightened by said crush. And then there is the fact that he kind of handled it badly which made him feel incredibly stupid. I've been there more than enough to understand him._

_Next chapter will be Carlos's POV and you finally see the world that Cecil is actually living in._

_Review, Favorite, Follow, or just Read._

_Ciao._


	3. Chapter 2

_A/N: I had the chapter partially done but recently finished it. I apologize for the awful quality because this has not been edited. I truly just wanted to update it since I'm updating Unfinished Memories at the same time._

_I planned on things going slow, but you know… things happened. I'm kind of starting out the story with a bang sort of thing I guess. No gradualism I mean. _

_So, with that said, I'm sorry for the lateness of this chapter and I apologize for the un-edited story. I will go back and edit it later._

_Read, review, favorite, follow. All that stuff._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Night Vale. (By the way, when can I stop putting this?)_

* * *

Chapter 2

When Carlos became a scientist, one of the many compliments he heard over and over was that he was a nice guy. Nothing that he said or did could have ever been seen as malicious or dangerously criminal. He was likable and people kind of involuntarily revolved around him, whether it involved very scientific experiments or a simple drink at the local bar.

He was used to it and possibly took it for granted.

At least, that is what it felt like as he watched the patient leave, dress shoes clicking against the tiled floor hastily in his wake.

What had he done wrong?

A fellow scientist came up next to him. No words were spoken as he placed a comforting hand on Carlo's shoulder. They all witnessed the encounter and Carlos could tell the flitting emotions of pity that crossed their faces at that point. He just didn't know if it was for him or for the patient that just fled from his sight like Carlos was a terminal disease. He wished it was neither.

One of the other scientists, someone by the name of Castiel came up and patted his shoulder timidly when the first walked away. "Don't think about it too much. From what I hear, he's kind of an odd one here. I'm sure he'll warm up to you." He smiled at Carlos and the scientist didn't hesitate to reflect it. He wished this man was going to accompany him to the Night Vale Sector but the tests proved he was fit for a different one.

"Carlos Munoz?" Carlos snapped his head up and was met with void eyes of an elderly woman. She looked emotionless and apathetic as she glazed over his figure. Taking a deep breath, Carlos kept his eyes on hers in an attempt to not look awkward.

To say it was hard was putting it lightly. Scientists were, you know, very adamant on revealing the unknown. They wanted to see the new world and predict the meanings of everything and anything. They hypothesized and experimented.

But this woman was not. She just observed him with dead fish eyes while he tried to find something to spark.

Carlos hoped he wouldn't become something like this.

Sanitization from all he has seen and done was similar to losing feeling. He could shudder at the thought just thinking about it.

In fact, most of the scientists Carlos came across acted like her. Like they were a sterile field in a preparation for surgery, scalpels sharpened and forceps glistening for future experiments. Merely watching the show.

To say it was unsettling was putting it lightly, however Carlos bit his tongue. He hasn't even known the woman longer than five minutes but he had a feeling questioning her personality would not prove well for his research. After all, he was here upon a voluntary temporary request, not for full time sight-seeing.

One misstep and he might find himself out of the facility or just gone in general, depending on the severity of his placement.

So he simply pushed up his glasses and nodded once more to her awaiting stare.

Turning, the elderly scientist began walking towards one of the locked sliding doors. A few of my fellow scientists left at this point to their respective sectors. I absently wondered if their head-scientists were going to be as strict and stern as her or not.

Hopefully not.

Sliding the card through the slot, we waited for the light to turn green before proceeding through the sector in silence.

Another woman, seemingly nicer, joined her as the head-scientist led me. They didn't coordinate any sort of greeting or note of comradery. In fact, they seemed rather tense around each other. Carlos attempted to keep from making it worse however he didn't know what would strike a cord and what wouldn't.

"Carlos."

Carlos blinked up at the woman with a jump. Out of habit he looked to her face only to find she had not even turned to look at him. The only eyes he met was the young woman beside her who offered him an apologetic smile.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Sir if you will."

"Fine. Yes, sir?"

A small, almost discernable nod. "That is good. You will always approach me as 'sir' and not 'ma'am' for it hints at accusable inequality. This organization, Dr. Munoz, is not an unequal foundation I am sure you understand. Therefore, everyone is addressed as 'sir', unless told otherwise, to reduce the amount of discrimination. Understood?"

Carlos nodded silently, before realizing she couldn't see his mute action and verbally addressed his affirmation.

"Good. Now, before I continue with the normal routine, I want you to know that any gratitude you have at this time should not be addressed for myself for I did not choose you to be here nor did I even approve. I merely produced the documents. The one to express such actions is Ms. Ponds here." She took a deep breath and sighed. "I am merely the organizational manager in this area. If there is trouble or any accusations of misconduct, they approach me and I take care of it."

"Basically, if compared to a hospital setting, she is like the one everyone reports to and asks permission in each sector of the building without it being the actual head of the hospital. Get it?" Ms. Ponds supplied helpfully and Carlos smiled and nodded.

The woman beside her tensed at the interruption.

"Thank you, Ms. Ponds," she spoke stiffly. "Although I doubt your assistance was hardly necessary. If he is any good he would have understood it instantly."

"I'm just fulfilling my job, Mrs. Anonimo. In fact, I believe I can give out the rules myself if you so like considering your demeanor seems to express your desire to be here quite adamantly."

Carlos widened his eyes at the sarcastic, almost sassy remark that came out of Ms. Pond's mouth. It was unexpected and a little relieving to be honest.

However, the name of the manager did peek his curiosity. Anonimo, in Spanish, is similar to faceless. Why this woman was given such a name was beyond him, but he supposed there was a reason. In this place, it seemed like everything else had one.

The two women glared at each other and Carlos attempted to not drag any attention to his form.

A few awkward minutes passed by like that.

Then, the next second, Mrs. Anonimo was clicking her heels past him, stiff as a board and borderline enraged.

Glancing back at the elderly manager, he switched his gaze to the fiery woman in front of him. Her face was flustered – whether from pride or fear Carlos didn't know – while a grin was on her lips. Taking a deep breath, she met Carlos's eyes and smiled even wider.

"Sorry. She is such a killjoy amirite? I hate her and yet she is my superior." Ms. Ponds shuddered and I chuckled. The atmosphere significantly lightened up from earlier. It was like air was the exact density it should be.

She motioned him over with a beckoning hand, "You don't have to stand back there. I'm not going to bite."

"Are you sure?" I questioned and she cursed under her breath at my hesitance.

"Yeah. Did she scare you? Sorry for that. It's a little amusing how she recites equality when she won't even let the newest recruit stand next to her like an equal. Hypocritical old woman." The red hair that surrounded her annoyed expression shook with her irritability.

"But," she added with a certain amount of pride. "I am not like her. I'm not going to like, devour you like some Black Widow." She snickered at her own joke and Carlos rose his brow.

"I didn't mind," Carlos spoke, walking up to stand next to her. "I expected it here. I mean, this is a prestigious laboratory so her social ability was as it should be to myself, Ms. Pond."

She patted his cheek affectionately, smiling. "Of course it seemed normal dear boy. I will admit that most people here are exactly like her, which is a downfall, but I know a few people who are not if you get tired of the bunch of them monochromic identities." Walking forward, she hummed a little and then added lightly. "Now, don't call me Ms. Ponds. Seems too… official. Just call me Amy."

"Okay, Amy. Oh, my name is Carlos," Carlos responded and Amy chuckled.

"Yes, I quite know your name already, Carlos. You are kind of the talk of the organization. One of the youngest scientists in this region!" She leaned forward. "Also, that incident with Cecil this morning kind of spread like a wildfire."

_Cecil?_

Carlos flushed. "Really?" He idly used his index finger to circle the rim of the disposable coffee cup in his hand, still a little warm. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal here."

"Oh it is! Especially when Cecil, Mr. I-Have-The-Most-Attractive-Voice-And-Can-Improvise-Naturally, loses his voice or catches his tongue at the sight of you. Quite the news, Carlos." Amy giggled and pressed him forward as he tried to organize what he just heard.

So that was Cecil. He didn't seem like a bad guy, quite the opposite actually. Carlos still couldn't believe it had been him who made Cecil speechless, of all people. He wasn't even that good looking. Average to be honest. Besides, all he said was if he was alright which is natural. Was it that much of a rarity here?

"Carlos."

He tilted his face up to find Amy giggling away.

"What?"

She smiled at him for a moment.

"What?" Carlos repeated again.

"Do you realize you seem to kind of speak your thoughts? Aloud?" Carlos could feel his face heat up as his tongue tried to formulate words. Amy quickly patted his cheek.

"Dear boy, don't worry about it. It's habit, right?" After a moment she added. "Also, you must have never seen yourself in a mirror because might I say you are quite the dashing fellow. I can't see how you think otherwise. Especially with those curly locks you have there. I know a certain someone who would love you for that."

"Who?" Carlos questioned out of curiosity and Amy shook her head, wagging her finger like he was trying to steal a cookie without her knowing.

"I can't tell. You'll figure it out soon enough, or hear it eventually. Whichever comes first." She winked at him and Carlos rolled his eyes.

That's when they came across a fork path. There was one path left and one to the right.

"Okay, pay attention because if you don't you could make a grave mistake next time you come here." Amy was dead serious, almost like it was his life at stake. "You see these two roads? Paths? Whatever? Well, they lead to two different parts of this sector."

"Two?" That was strange. Most sectors were fairly straight forward.

"Yes, two. There is a reason. These two parts? They cannot, under any circumstances, mingle together. It's like they are the polar opposites of a magnet. Hence why we have two paths."

Amy pointed to the left. "That path leads to Desert Bluffs. Only certain scientists are qualified for that sector and thank God you are not one of them." Carlos blinked at her, taken aback by her answer. The way she said it was almost as if she were on her knees praying for his safety and relieved that someone answered it.

Carlos couldn't help the fact that his curiosity was piqued. It was only natural. Especially with being a scientist.

"What is the matter with those who go to Desert Bluffs?"

Amy winced. "They are not… normal, let's say. There is a reason they go there, Carlos. They are plain strange or demented. I don't like making accusations, but if you ever meet one, you will see what I mean."

Amy shuddered before pointing to the right. "That is the path you take. Remember: Right is the right way to Night Vale. It is important to know this. Also," She pointed at the two gates that were at the entrance of each path, "These key cards are annoyingly the same so if you did forget and decided to just see which works, don't. It is better to ask someone. Now, insert your card into the slot and we'll continue our trek."

Carlos stared at her, eyebrows raised.

It took a few seconds before she slapped her forehead.

"Right! Oh goodness. I still need to give you your key card. Here you go." She handed him a purple keycard. On the ID picture was one of him from his last occupation. On the other side was his name, age, etc. with a watermark of an eye in the background.

He peered up at Amy as he slid the card through the slot. "So, do you not have a card?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm not even from this sector. Don't worry, dear. I know a wonderful young lady who will love to be your friend so don't look so distraught." She winked and then continued. "I'm from the Doctor Who sector. It's a very lonely sector, very sad, but I'm currently the companion of one of our main tenants. It's interesting. You should drop by one day."

Carlos smiled. "Definitely! I would love to see the other areas. It seems very… interesting."

"Oh interesting doesn't even begin to describe it, darling." She smiled and pushed his back forward. "Now come on! We don't have all day to talk, as much as I would love to."

Carlos chuckled and began to walk forward as the doors slid aside and allowed them through. He heard a loud hiss as the doors slid back together, almost as seamless as when he first saw them.

"So," Carlos cleared his throat, averting his gaze from the doors to Amy. "How do the patients get to the lunch room then? I don't think they have cards as well as the scientists, do they?"

He saw her face contort into an expression of brief disgust before she shook her head. "No. They have little barcodes on their wrist. When they pass a certain detector," she pointed up to a dome-shaped object on the ceiling, a few feet from the door. On it was a glaring red dot that rotated 180 degrees continuously. "The detector will send the barcode to the door and it will unlatch."

Carlos heard Amy mutter something under her breath but decided not to broach it out of respect. Instead, he continued walking, hands in his lab coat pockets.

They walked like that for a while. It was a tense silence but a breathable one at least. She sighed and grabbed his arm.

"Okay, listen. I don't want to tell you this but if you are going to be in any sector, especially this one, you need to know this before interacting with any patient."

"Especially this one?" Carlos clarified.

"Especially. You'll understand why quickly I'm sure. If not, well, one of us will explain it during lunch."

"You see," Amy started. "These inmates… they are not aware of their surroundings. When I say this, I do not mean that they are in a coma or a state of vegetation. I literally mean that they do not know where they are."

"How can that be?"

"Medication. A certain sort of hormone that activates and controls the system. It is a gradual medication in the sense that it doesn't fully meld in the patient's body until they've been under it for more than 20 years. However, up to that point they are still slowly becoming more accustomed to the scene the drug is administering. Since I am not a Veteran of this laboratory yet, I cannot tell you the details of the chemicals used, but it's addiction rivals that of morphine or nicotine."

Carlos's eyes widened as he took this all in. "And… what happens after the 20 years? What if they are left on the medication for too long?"

Amy sighed and met my eyes. She looked sad and her mouth forced a small, bitter grin.

"Then they never wake up. They are stuck in their little fantasy world with no ways of knowing they do not belong there. They remain in that little purgatory world until they pass away."

Carlos flinched mentally. He was torn. He was a scientist, by all means he knows for a fact that he is a scientist, but he is not a tactless one. He has morals and they all but screamed at the inhumanity of the acts they were pursuing here.

"Isn't that… isn't that against their rights as humans?" Carlos forced out once he was able to move his lips.

Amy let out an emotionless chuckle. "Darling, in this place there is no such thing as human rights. As far as anyone here knows, they are all voluntary people who wanted to be experimented on."

Carlos shuddered and Amy, whose hand was still on his arm, pushed him forward again. His mind was on autopilot. He was elated to have been accepted in one of the most prestigious laboratories in the United States, however, he didn't know how long he would remain so with these acts of… complete slavery.

They walked again but the silence was tense. It was not as comfortable as before. Carlos's thoughts were in personal turmoil while it seemed that Amy was far from where they walked.

He would remain here. That much Carlos was certain. It was only his first day and leaving so soon would definitely raise suspicion. Additionally, he would have to approach this like an experiment. That meant he would stay in the lab for multiple days or weeks for actual data on where he stood at the end.

That was the only way he could approach this.

The scientific way.

Eventually, they paused at a door. Carlos blinked and found Amy smiling at him, the shadow from before apparently gone or hidden.

He was waiting for her response when she pointed at the cup. "That was Cecil's wasn't it?"

Carlos flushed and chuckled. "Yeah, I felt bad for scaring him away. I mean, this was his… I just want to be a nice guy and felt awful and-" he stopped when Amy patted his cheek.

"I get it. I shouldn't be letting you in, but I think I can trust you not to rat me out." She winked at him. "Maybe I will just turn a blind eye and say you went along to do your business when I turned around. Who knows really with these crazy young men?"

Carlos smiled gratefully and nudged her. "Thanks, Amy."

"Anytime, dear." She quickly punched a code, but not too quickly that Carlos couldn't memorize it for later.

Wait, later? He was only coming here to return a coffee. That was all.

Where did this later nonsense come from? Cecil wasn't even his patient. Technically, seeing him now was breaking some protocol. Seeing him more than now was risking it.

Taking a deep breath, Carlos forced his face to cool down. He did not want to look red when he met the man. He already started out with a bad impression. He didn't want to leave it at that.

When the door finally slid open with a hiss, a deep voice vibrated across the room with chocolate tones. "Our tiny desert community is in for a treat it seems. Four to be exact. One is in your closet and another is under your bed. One mimics your midnight shadow and the last curls over your form with claws as you sleep... Welcome to Night Vale."

Amy nudged Carlos in before the door could close.

Carlos glanced at the pale young man in front of him and then at the microphone he spoke into so adamantly.

It wasn't even connected.

Speakers aligned the walls and a script was placed in front of him. There was even a glass window to show the supposed "sound studio". However, it was quickly assumed that this was all a ruse for the young man. A few little trinkets to make his imagination run wild.

And Carlos couldn't help but find the scene completely disgusting.

"Excuse me?"

Carlos jumped and met eyes with another young woman. She had a long white lab coat set aside and currently wore black slacks with a purple shirt. On it was a name tag with "Night Vale Radio Intern". She had curly dark brown hair that surrounded her dark complexion.

"I said, excuse me? What are you doing here in my patient's room?" She was clearly protective and Carlos didn't want to get on anybody's bad side. Especially in a place like this where anything could make you "disappear".

He could respond with apologizing. Normally that's what he would do if something like this happened awkwardly. Apologize and leave. However, this scientist seemed different as in Amy different.

Carlos decided that he would test his luck. "I don't like it either."

The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "Pardon me?"

"The vacant happiness in his eyes. It seems too imaginary… too fake."

The match between their stares went on for a few minutes before she let out a sigh. A small upward quirk came at the end.

"You don't like this," she waved her arms in a wide circle as if to encompass the laboratory, "either it seems. That's… great." She stood and walked over to Carlos, holding out her hand. "I'm Dana. In real life, I am a scientist specifically assigned to Cecil, however, in his world I am merely one of his Radio Interns." She smiled but it was sad and bitter like Amy's had been mere minutes earlier.

"Is that what he is doing now? A radio broadcast?"

"You gotcha. I'm just here to make sure he's on time."

Carlos sighed. It's funny that the only thing he could do with all the information he had been given is sigh, but that action basically explained his emotions.

He glanced at Cecil and smiled a little at how animated the radio host was. He looked so happy, like he personally enjoyed his little fantastical job. He's probably not the only one who felt this way in their realms.

This place was for specific people after all. People who would be happy and prosper in the little imaginary world. One rebel and the world would crash down. It really wasn't a surprise that Cecil enjoyed it as much as he did. He was practically the star voice of it all.

When he met Dana's eyes again, she was staring at him with a perplexed expression.

"You're different."

Carlos blinked. "Different how?"

Dana sat on the bed in Cecil's room and patted Carlos to sit down. Once he did, she leaned back on her elbows and watched Cecil with a sort of motherly protectiveness.

"You are not like the others. If newcomers come in, they normally question him like he isn't here. They don't acknowledge the falseness of his scenario. They just don't care. How long has he been hooked up? Are the medications doing nicely? Will he need a stronger dose? Those sorts of questions. It's nice to know there is another person like me."

Carlos hummed and glanced at the cup in his hands. He had a feeling if there was any warmth in it, it was only due to his own body heat.

Dana glanced at it and her face broke out into a cheeky grin. It was warm though; sentimental.

Carlos felt his face heat up. "Cecil… he just…! He kind of left it at the cafeteria this morning because I may have frightened him off by accident and well…" Dana shushed him and giggled as his face refused to cool.

"You don't have to explain yourself…" she frowned. "I didn't get your name earlier."

"Carlos," he supplied.

"Carlos," her mouth briefly fell into a smirk before she fixed it. "Well, it was nice of you to bring his coffee, Carlos."

"I just felt bad…" Carlos began.

"I'm sure you did. You seem like the type," Dana commented, placing the cup on Cecil's desk within reach.

"So I wanted to bring it by before I went on my other duties is all," he finished.

"Well, I can tell you're loyal and honest because you did just that." Dana was giggling at something and Carlos was confused. Dana patted his head and stood. Carlos was about to follow suit when she shook her head. She seemed a little hesitant but after a minute she opened her mouth.

"Look… normally I wouldn't do this, but I am absolutely famished right now. I woke up late and kind of skipped breakfast. Do you mind keeping an eye on him while I go get a bite?" Her eyes looked apologetic but pleading.

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Like I could say no to a fellow scientist." He smiled and waved her off. "Go on. I can watch him."

"Fantastic!" She kissed him on the cheek and ran out with a "Thanks!" on her heels.

When the doors slid shut he leaned back like Dana had earlier. With Cecil's broadcast roaming around the room in silky, addicting tones, it was a nice aura to relax it. The kind you would find in a coffee shop or boutique. Carlos watched as Cecil lowered his voice as he spoke of "Angels" and then quickly dismissed them. It was so silly but in his realm it probably was some sort of hoodoo he couldn't say.

The disconnected microphone kept coming back, even in this warm scene.

Cecil was speaking his mind, his heart was ringing out into the broadcast that no one would ever hear. He was telling them everything and anything that was undoubtedly important, but nobody could hear what he meant for them. They wouldn't receive any welcome to Night Vale nor any terms of good night.

Carlos didn't regret becoming a scientist for the laboratory, but he felt there must have been a better way than… this. He didn't know if Cecil wanted to be here. He didn't even know if any of these people wanted to be here, but he knew that if they didn't, they couldn't make it known.

"And now, the weather."

Carlos focused on Cecil as the radio broadcaster turned in his chair to press play on a small stereo. A soft tune began to rang out as Cecil rotated again to face the bed, probably expected Dana.

Cecil froze almost instantly when it was clear Dana was not here.

Carlos wasn't good with confrontation. He wasn't good with dealing with people who didn't really want to see him at that particular moment and Cecil at this moment was both of these.

The broadcaster began to move back in his chair and winced when it bumped against the desk. Carlos quickly jumped up with a "Please, stop!"

The silence that broadened was tense to say the least.

After a minute, Carlos opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said and let out a surprised laugh when Cecil said so at the exact same time.

"You can go first," Cecil offered, smiling a small amused grin of his own.

"No, I'm fine. You can go and I'll speak after."

"I mean, you probably had something…" Cecil started.

"Important to say…" Carlos finished.

They stared at each other before breaking into chuckles.

"Um… so I am Carlos. Carlos the scientist." Carlos held out his hand and watched as Cecil hesitated before shaking it. "Do you mind if I ask… how you got here?"

"Here?" Cecil looked confused. "As in Night Vale?"

Carlos shook his head. He didn't want to prod but his inner curiosity of a scientist wanted answers. "No, as in the laboratory."

"Lab…" That's when Cecil froze. He didn't just freeze, he paled. His skin became waxy and white, thin as paper and frail as age permits. The smile fell and his eyes became filled with fright like a six year old child living his nightmares.

Suddenly, he grabbed Carlos's arm and met his eyes pleadingly.

"Please don't leave me like this." His voice was small. It was so small and hoarse. Terribly weak like when you couldn't find your voice.

"I…I want my mommy." Oh god, tears. Tears were falling down his cheeks continuously like a waterfall. His eyes kept searching Carlos's like he didn't know what to do or if Carlos meant well. His lower lip trembled and his grip tightened to the point of pain. "Where is she?"

"I..I…" Carlos began but Cecil continued as if he couldn't hear him.

"She left and now I am trapped." Cecil closed his eyes briefly and when he opened them, they were pleading again. "I'm not who I am. I'm not! I'm still here. I'm still me. Please don't forget about me. I don't want to be forgotten… I don't… I… Just don't forget me! Please!"

That's when the door hissed open and Dana rushed in, plunging a syringe into Cecil's arm. Within seconds his complexion turned to normal and he was smiling. His eyes were still red from the tears he shed and his face still flushed and wet.

"What were we talking about?" Cecil questioned and then touched his chin as a tear drop remained still. He pulled it away with confusion. "Tears? Why am I crying? That's so silly!"

But Carlos couldn't find his voice. Thankfully, Dana seemed to know exactly what to do.

"Cecil, dear. The weather is done. You should return to your awaiting listeners."

"Ah! Right!" Cecil spared a smile at Carlos before returning to his chair, headphones going over his ears and microphone placed in front of his lips.

Dana grabbed Carlos's wrists and pulled him outside of the room.

When the door hissed shut, she looked devastated and broken. Carlos himself was still in a state of shock from the scene. He had it coming, but he didn't know it would be to this degree.

"Carlos. Are you here?"

Carlos nodded numbly.

"Okay. Good." She let out a deep breath of relief. "Look, you are going to have to understand this if you plan to see Cecil ever. That back there? That is what makes Cecil special."

"Special how?" Carlos questioned hoarsely. In derangement? In fear?

"He cannot be taken off the medicine, Carlos."

Carlos blinked at her. He couldn't be taken off the medicine?

"Why?"

"If he's taken off… he will lose it. Do you understand? That medicine is literally what is keeping him sane at this point. It's the reason why I haven't pulled him off by now. The child you spoke to before? That was him when he was first administered. He was always different, Carlos. This just makes that word a little more fatal."

After that, she gave him a hug. It was so unexpected that Carlos didn't know what to do. Before he could react, she pulled away and entered Cecil's room again.

"Look, I'm sorry you had to see that. Just… meet me in the cafeteria at lunch and if you still have questions, I will answer what I can." She smiled and then shut the door.

Carlos looked at the little window into the broadcaster's room and saw Cecil smiling. He reached over to the coffee cup and let out a small noise of surprise when he realized it wasn't there earlier. After that he spoke of the "old woman that secretly lives in your home" and continued where he left off.

It was terrifying how quickly Cecil went from adult to child in a blink of an eye. How many other people were like him? How many didn't want to be here? How many missed their family?

Carlos had been on the borderline for a while now on where he stood with the laboratory, but this changed things.

"_Don't forget me!"_

Carlos took a deep breath and kept walking down the corridors to complete his rounds before somebody reported him.

Silently, however, he vowed to break whatever was happening here. Even if this was science, there was a difference between scientific discovery and involuntary slavery.

* * *

_Did I forget to mention that this story has sectors? Because it does. A lot. And if you cannot tell, each sector is a fandom._

_That means there is a Supernatural sector, a Doctor Who sector, etc. I will make this a multifandom fic, but it will be primarily Night Vale. _

_It's great. I'm enjoying it._

_So, ciao!_


	4. Chapter 3

_A/N: Hey guys. Sorry for the late update. I'm an idiot with multiple fanfictions. I actually began to post this story on Archive of Our Own. Somebody actually commented to say just that and yes, it is on here and archive of our own. _

_More Carlos and some little fluff I guess before I delve into the serious stuff. I needed a break from all my sadness in the other stories I had. Ugh, I have a dark mind and it's only a matter of time before it is placed in this story._

_So enjoy the chapter._

_Don't own Night Vale. Love to ship it though._

* * *

Project Night Vale

Chapter 3

When Carlos walked into the barely-occupied cafeteria of the Laboratories, he was exhausted and in more turmoil than he actually planned for when he willingly jumped towards this job. He expected to perform experiments, find out exactly what was going on, but instead here he was going daft with all the thoughts of the inhumane acts of these scientists.

An even more eccentric thought: The possibility of changing those actions.

This was only his first day. He hadn't even seen everything his sector had to offer or met a small percent of the personnel that actually resided here. He was fresh, new, off the rack, and yet he was the one who was sporting all of these thoughts of change and freedom as if he was a teenager during the 1960s sexual revolution.

He didn't know if he was losing it or if perhaps his way was the right way.

A few hours ago, turning against the higher ups and crying rebellion sounded like an amazing idea. Even though he was a scientist and loved science with the core of his being, he couldn't stand for involuntary consent. It was wrong and Carlos still had morality. So, that being said, actions of anarchy or overthrowing the authority seemed splendid.

But that was a few hours ago. A few hours gives a person enough time to think things through and now that he had, Carlos didn't know if he even had a chance. The higher ups seemed to understand what they were doing and what do to in cases of various standards. Additionally, this was one of the most prestigious Laboratories so they probably have dealt with what he was pondering with earnest efficiency.

Carlos truly wanted to fix this, but it was going to take more than fueled anger and odd personal affiliations with a man he hardly knew.

Apparently Amy had seen that quickly as if it was written all over his face.

"So I see that you understand," Amy spoke with no greeting. She took a bite of her salad and nodded towards the chair across from her.

Collapsing into the chair, Carlos leaned forward onto his folded arms and sighed.

"I just… I just don't get it. I'm a scientist, Amy. We all are, but this isn't science. This is slavery and horrible. I just cannot figure out a single theory or hypothesis as to how to approach the problem. It's…"

"Mental?" She added helpfully and he nodded into his arms, letting out another sigh. Something nudges his arm and he looked up to see Amy pushing another salad with a bottle of orange juice in his direction. The look she gave him spoke volumes. _Eat this._

"Yeah. Mental sounds about right." He popped the top off the salad and grabbed a fork, playing with his food with no intentions of eating just yet. He just couldn't think about food with all of this… bizarre nonsense going on. "I was looking forward to this job at the beginning. This is like the ivy league of Laboratories, but now I regret it."

"You're not the only one."

Carlos looked to the right of him to see a young scientist plop down into the chair with as much exhaustion as Carlos felt. Judging by the brown hair and slightly tanned skin, Carlos assumed it was Castiel.

Amy does the same as she did for Carlos to Castiel, pushing another salad with a bottle of juice. Castiel stared at it before he rubbed his eyes.

He looked as if he had met his demons and couldn't believe they existed.

Patting his shoulder awkwardly – since Carlos wasn't exactly an expert at comfort to be honest – Carlos tried to break whatever haze of regret the man seemed to be in. After all, as long as they worked here, Castiel would have to get used to it. Who knows how long that will be?

"What sector were you in?"

The chuckle that shook the young man was humorless and bitter. "Supernatural. The Supernatural sector. I swear I have never seen so many pairs of angel wings, salt containers, and demon summoning circles in my life." Carlos winced but hummed in response to show he was listening.

"In my sector we can't even say angels. It's practically a voodoo word that curses you upon speaking it."

"Yeah… have you been assigned to a patient yet?" Castiel's lips curled downward at "patient" like he didn't like the word any more than Carlos did.

Carlos shook his head and glanced at Amy. "No, I haven't. Are we supposed to be?"

Amy chewed thoughtfully before answering. "It depends on the sector. Like, in my sector there is normally 1 or 2 scientists that are actually assigned to a patient, however, in Castiel's it may be closer to 10 or 20. If you are to be assigned to someone, normally your superior will approach you. Don't worry about it Carlos."

Removing his hand, Carlos returned to his food, albeit not without another question. He was a little curious. It was a curse and a blessing.

"Who were you assigned to?"

"These two brothers. Well, technically one of them, but I work with both. Today I was just assigned to the first brother, the oldest." He clutched at his head, closing his eyes as if not wanting to remember it. Carlos was about to retract his question when Castiel continued. "They were going to kill him. "Hell" or whatever they wanted to call it. My job, as is assigned observer, was to make sure he didn't die so I rescued him and brought him back to his room. He was near death, but I managed to save him."

The young scientist shuddered and looked up with a humorless smile. "He thinks that I brought him back from Hell and revived him. It took all of my willpower to not tell him he was not where he was."

Carlos grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Well, me too. Although I am glad I was there to save him. God only knows what would have happened to him." Castiel sighed and began drinking the juice. "What are you by the way? I'm an angel apparently."

"Scientist," Carlos shrugged. It was an easy role to play since he was literally a scientist. In Night Vale he just had different motives than in reality.

"Companion," Amy motioned with her hand, grinning a little. "Sorry. I thought you were asking everyone here, Cas." The three of them chuckled as the tension broke.

The door behind them slid open once more and a second later Dana was sitting to Carlos's left. Since she already ate, she just sat there and leaned her head on her hand. She looked tired but otherwise content. Carlos could see why if she was around Cecil all day.

Carlos was about to ask how her time was when another guy sat next to Amy. He was short and had a military sort of cut and form about him. His eyes seemed forever half-lidded as did the scowl on his face. Cleaning his part of the table with diligence, Carlos watched as the man swung his feet up onto said table and crossed his arms over his chest.

Glancing at Amy, Carlos was about to ask when she just shook her head as if to say "Ignore it."

He assumed that since the man sat at the table that maybe he was approachable, maybe a friend, but perhaps he was wrong. Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Carlos decided to leave it. He trusted Amy, even though like most of the people here he only knew her for a day. If she said to leave him be, then Carlos had no reason to really object. She seemed to know him better than himself after all.

"So, what do you think of your sector so far, Carlos?" She stated to break the awkward silence.

The scientist put his fork down and shrugged. "It's interesting. It's different. It's something new and I do enjoy the mystery the sector has. Besides the medication, I personally like it. It's a weird town but in a good way." Dana nodded her head as if agreeing with his statement even though she had been here longer than he.

It was hard to ignore the attraction Carlos had for Night Vale. After all, even if he couldn't see the realm as the other's saw it, it was still mysterious, innovative, and imaginative in a sense that drew everyone into its secrets. The angels that were not to be named. The Old Woman that Secretly Lives in Your Home. The five-headed dragon fugitive known as Hiram McDaniels.

Night Vale was a bizarre place and that's why Carlos still remained there. He may not like the motives and the medication used to make the place a reality for some, but he couldn't help but marvel at the actual creation and perspective of the place.

Of course, it was easier to say what he said to Amy instead of all this repetitive gushing nonsense of an amazed and equally confused scientist.

Amy hummed to herself before responding, "That's good. You don't want to get stuck in a town you don't enjoy." She looked pointedly at young military-like man beside her.

Carlos rose a questioning brow in her direction considering she told him to drop any conversation starters with the silenced man. Yet here she was looking for a fight or argument from the looks of it.

The man stiffened in his seat but did nothing to reject or affirm her statement.

The tension rose as she glowered at him and he continued to ignore her. Castiel shuffled nervously next to Carlos, exchanging looks with Dana and Carlos as they too witnessed the scene in front of them.

Carlos didn't know whether to clear his throat to break the sliceable tension, or to leave it be so they could sort it out. He wasn't too good at communicating with people (something that normally came when spending one's life mostly behind a chemistry set).

He also knew very little about these people. It was only his first day which left him with very little room for judgement. Maybe her argument was well founded, even though Carlos knew that was hardly ever the case. Perhaps it was a rivalry dispute. Who knows?

The scientist wished he had been here longer than a day so he could figure out the answer to his problem. You know, since that's what scientists did best! They figure out answers.

Dana nudged him. When he looked at her, she shook her head with a smile slightly wavered.

Leaning in, she whispered in his ear. "They normally are like this. It may seem intense, but it is nothing more than a childish row to be honest. I don't think they realized that it really does kill happiness though."

"It is not childish!" Amy argued loudly. Sticking out her bottom lip, she shook her red locks and pointed to the man beside her. "It's just that unlike some of us who were placed in our sectors for at least a little bit of interest, this lad seems to absolutely despise his."

At this the fellow finally broke his resolve and sighed.

"I don't hate my sector, Ponds. I just find it fucking stressful. Irrational, unreasonable, illegal. The sort of shit that all of you hate as well. Don't grind on me just because I make it more obvious than you lot of whisperers."

Carlos's eyes widened as he heard the rough tone and bad language. It's not like he didn't expect it…

Okay, yes, he really didn't expect it coming from him. The military don't usually have that sort of language, or so he thought. He didn't know much about their ranks so maybe he was wrong?

Well, he might as well try to make another acquaintance. If the man likes him he may actually talk to him about his sector perhaps.

"Excuse me."

The young man turned his glare to Carlos, but it had reverted to a simple bored stare. It was hard to tell with his expression barely changing, but the bark seemed to have waned down to a bite if that made sense.

"What's your name?"

He let out a sigh and grimaced. "Levi. Or, at least, that is what you will hear go around in these parts. Scientist. Observe. Captain. Whatever."

Captain? Of what?

"If you don't mind me asking, what sector are you in?" Carlos knew he probably should have ceased his prodding, but he couldn't help it. A new sector had an infinite amount of questions, and he was burning to learn them.

Levi shrugged. "Attack on Titan. Don't ask why the strange name. You are going to have to see it to really understand what's going on."

"Here here," Castiel mumbled, lifting his orange juice in a half-hearted cheers.

Attack on Titan? Carlos thought he heard some transferring scientists talk about that sector. It was very well known but not for good reasons. He had heard rumors about a high mortality rate in that sector. Too many deaths and not enough births. Strange happenings and stranger people.

One look at Levi and he realized he said it aloud. The man was frozen and seemed to be in a state of reminiscing.

About to apologize, Carlos opened his mouth but was interrupted with the intercom in the cafeteria going off.

"Carlos Munoz. Please make your way to CP0135's quarter's post haste. I repeat. Carlos Munoz. Please make your way to CP0135's quarters." Then a loud click and everyone at the table turned to Carlos with confusion.

Not that he knew what was going on any more than they did. All he knew was that number was Cecil's, but what would Cecil want? Additionally, is it even Cecil who wants him or just another scientist who caught his actions today? He didn't know which he preferred more.

Excusing himself, Carlos threw away his lunch and strode briskly back to the Night Vale sector.

The entire walk there was accompanied with thoughts of what he was needed for.

To medicate Cecil?

To console him?

To observe him?

If anything, Carlos didn't like any of them. It was too much like an experiment. An unwanted experiment on an unaware medium. It wasn't right.

When Carlos punched the code, he waited for the hiss that meant the door was opening. He expected a few other unnamed men in white lab coats. He expected IV lines or Cecil speaking into a disconnected microphone. He expected images of scenarios that he would not like in the slightest. Events that may persuade his desire to rebel against the higher authorities recklessly.

However, when the door opened fully, he was instead met with Cecil grinning at him like Carlos was the best gift in the world.

It was a nice feeling that the scientist couldn't help but smile at.

Walking in, Carlos glanced around just in case there were actually observers in the room, but it seemed the room was alone. Nobody else but Cecil and him.

Relaxing was easier after noticing this. With people watching him, he would have to keep the image of a curious, dead scientist only wishing for information. With Cecil, he could at least be himself which may save him from ever becoming like the rest of the lot in this place.

Meeting Cecil's eyes again, he noticed the man shuffle sheepishly. "I thought we got off on the wrong foot. I didn't want to leave things like that so I thought I should fix it."

_He didn't do anything wrong_, Carlos thought in his head and it was true. For most, if not all, of the reasons Cecil acted off it was due to Carlos. He just didn't have the button to tell him to back off from discovery. If he had actually remember about that aspect, Cecil would not have had to apologize and "fix" things as he said.

But, then again, he wouldn't be here talking to the more than friendly man either.

So perhaps it wasn't all bad.

"How did you manage to get the intercom to allow to you summon me?" Carlos asked curiously, the smile on his lips curling more in amusement. Cecil didn't seem the manipulative type but you never knew.

Cecil shrugged. "He likes me I guess. I don't cause him much trouble and he's known me as long as I can remember being in this town." Carlos winced when he said town. This place was far from the characteristic.

The scientist wanted to tell him it was all a fake. He wanted to awake Cecil to what he really was and where he truly at. He wanted to rip off the medication and release everyone while he is at it. However, Dana said Cecil was special and after the scene today it was easy to see why.

Besides, most of these people have been here longer than Cecil and have been on the drug longer. Releasing them won't release them from the drug since they have relied on it so long.

Leaning against the wall, Carlos smiled at Cecil although it was painfully forced. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"

Cecil's smile faltered as his face went blank. A second later his skin reddens as an embarrassed chuckle is forced out. "I don't know? Just… stuff I guess. I mean, I wanted to fix things, but I didn't really think through as to how I was going to approach that goal."

Chuckling, Carlos sat down on the bed and scooted back until his back met the wall. Cecil joined almost immediately, sitting Indian style on the mattress parallel to the scientist. His smile grew into an adorable grin while his violet eyes shined vibrantly.

"Do you have a question?" Carlos asked, amused. The radio host nodded, the smile never faltering.

"So, your name is Carlos?" he began, picking at the frays on his pants. It seemed that in the time between when they first met to now he had changed to sweat pants and a cartoon t-shirt. It was cute on him, like he was a little kid when in reality he was twenty-something.

"Carlos the scientist." He supplied.

"Right. Right. Neat-o." Cecil nodded to himself, smiling brighter at the last word.

"And you are Cecil?" Carlos asked, smiling as Cecil rocked back and forth.

"Yup! Cecil Palmer." After pronouncing the name, Carlos noticed Cecil getting sheepish. It was almost akin to embarrassment. For what? "I know it's a weird name." Ah.

Carlos shook his head, thinking over his answer before saying it. "I like it. It fits you."

Cecil looked up, his eyes ever brighter. Then they seem to dim almost as fast. "It means I'm blind."

"It means you are dim-sighted," Carlos corrected gently, patting the hands that rested on Cecil's crossed ankles. "Not blind. You see things more clearly because you put more determination to do so. You're a stronger individual and sees things as they truly are."

The smile Cecil gave was breath taking and Carlos found himself mesmerized by it.

This was quickly followed by an intense amount of mental scolding.

Okay. No. This was not okay. This was far from okay. He literally just met the guy today! He has to wait at least a few weeks. This is preposterous and irrational and a plot for a bad soap opera or drama series that Carlos did not want a part of.

Yet he couldn't help but wish for Cecil to smile like that more.

Carlos was hopeless.

Giggling at Carlos's expression, Cecil commented back. "I like your name as well."

Carlos rolled his eyes. "It's a simple name."

"But it means you're strong!" He protested.

Carlos made a gesture to encompass himself. "Look at me Cecil. I'm a scientist, not some body builder. There is no strength for me to speak of."

Cecil scooted forward until his knees brushed Carlo's outstretched ones. He narrowed his eyes and stared intently at Carlos through his barely hipster styled glasses.

After a while, Carlos wasn't sure if he found this creepy or confusing. Maybe the latter because Cecil would never seem creepy. It was basically impossible.

"What are you doing?"

Cecil looked at him seriously. "Trying to see how such an observant man can be blind to his strongest aspect. Strength does not always mean physical mass, Carlos. It could mean belief and determination in your faith or hobbies, like you with all your science stuff!" He smirked and continued. "So, you are clearly strong, Carlos. Anyone with an eye can see that and I have two of them." He winked.

Carlos smiled and Cecil grinned cheekily back.

"Thanks Cecil."

"I'm only returning the favor."

Feeling more relaxed, Carlos decided to ask one of the main questions plaguing his mind.

"So, why did you run from me earlier today?"

The look on Cecil's face was like a deer in headlights. Eyes wide as saucers and mouth falling open with a pop. The next second he composed himself and chuckled nervously.

"What can you possibly be talking about, Carlos? Me? Run? Are you sure? I'll have you know I never run from anything."

Carlos rolled his eyes and nudged Cecil's shoulder, making the man almost lose his composure.

"Of course I mean you. I felt so awful and I thought I did something wrong." Carlos's smile dropped with the guilt he felt about what occurred earlier today.

Cecil gasped. "Oh no! Shush your beautiful face! Goodness. Saying you did something wrong is like saying your hair is not absolutely fabulous!" Afterward, he started poking his fingers together, watching the clash with nervous ambition.

Carlos waited because if he's good at anything, it's being patient.

"Have you heard my broadcast today?"

Carlos shook his head.

Cecil laughed a little. "Well, then I guess this is going to be hard. Um. I'll ask Dana to give them to you." He paused and sighed. "You see, I kind of ran from you because I realized that I kind of…" after that whatever he tried to say fell into a mumbled mess.

Carlos leaned in, raising his brow. "Kind of what?"

Cecil took a deep breath and blurted out in one breath. "Realized that I fell in love with you instantly and then you were right there and I was absolutely horrified at the state I was in because I was kind of in a wreck and weird and not at all composed and ugh."

Carlos was surprised and that was an understatement.

Looks like he wasn't the only one who jumped head over heels.

Cecil placed his hands over his face, clearly misreading the expression on Carlos's face.

Sighing, Carlos smiled softly and pulled away Cecil's hands gently, holding them by the finger tips so they didn't go back up. He was going to wait until Cecil met his eyes before he said anything, however, Cecil seemed to beat him to the punch.

"Are you gonna leave?" It was similar to a child pleading and Carlos thought back to the little boy that all but screamed not to forget him.

He also thought about the abnormally quick crush he developed in a day and couldn't find it in his heart to even think of leaving.

So he shook his head. "No. Not at all. I'm just surprised is all. It's not every day that someone confesses the same day they meet so…" he offered a lop-sided grin. "Just… give me some time to think this over, yeah? I can't give you an answer immediately until I know you."

Cecil tilted his head. "So it's not a no?"

Carlos laughed. "No. It's not a no."

The relieved smile on Cecil's face was blinding as he let out a sigh and flopped back onto his pillows, releasing Carlos's fingers in the process. "That's great. Neat. Perfect."

Carlos was about to ask another question when a knock at the door interrupted him. When the door hissed open, Dana walked in with an apologetic smile.

"Oh, hi Carlos. I forgot you were here. Um… the doctor has to come in to visit Cecil so you have to leave." As she said this she moved aside to let another man in a white lab coat through. He fixed the glasses resting on his nose and carried a medical kit in his other hand.

When Carlos glanced back at Dana, she had the nastiest glare he had ever seen on anyone. It was clear that this was the guy who kept Cecil in these delusions, the one who administered each poisonous dosage.

Nodding stiffly, Carlos spoke farewell and left the room with Dana. He heard Cecil say good night with a questionable tone at the end. Clearly he didn't understand Carlos's abrupt leaving or his stiffness, but Carlos couldn't tell him why. It would only make things worse and that's not counting a witness and the danger with that aspect.

Waiting outside the door, Carlos sighed.

"So?"

Carlos glanced at Dana questioningly. "So?"

Dana's lips slowly curved into an excited grin. "Did he tell you?"

Turning quickly, Carlos pointed a finger at the dark-skinned scientist accusingly. "You knew!"

She scoffed in response like it was obvious. "Of course I knew. How could I not know if my sweet, adorable friend had a crush? Please."

Carlos smiled at the term "Friend" and not "Patient". "Yes he told me."

Dana squealed and grabbed his hands excitedly. "And what did you say?"

Carlos sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. "Well, I didn't say no if that's what you're asking. But!" He interrupted before she could speak. "I did say that I have to think about it. After all, I just met the guy today!"

She scoffed. "So what? You guys are practically made for each other."

"Dana. That's the beginning of a bad romance novel. I don't want to rush things, get attached if it's just a phase."

Dana sighed grumpily. "Fine, but it's not a phase. By the end of this week you two bundles of love will be together and wrapped around each other's pinkies." Letting out a sigh, she motioned back down the exit. "Here, let me show you to the Dorms. I don't know who you will be paired with since, you know, they kind of mingle every sector scientist together."

"So I could get anyone," Carlos concluded glumly.

"Well, not anyone. It will be a guy. They don't want to mix guys and girls together. Afraid of something happening I guess." She shrugged as they left the Night Vale sector and approached the lobby of the Laboratory. Turning, he followed as she walked down the center hallway parallel to the entrance door. After sliding her card, they both entered.

"Check your card. It will have what room number you have. Think of it as a hotel card."

He checked it and read it out loud, squinting to make sure he read it correctly. "Room 218."

She nodded and pointed straight. "It's going to be all the way down then. You're lucky. Mine is all kinds of twists and turns." Smiling she hugged Carlos and pecked him on the cheek. "Night Carlos. See you in the morning I suppose?"

"Sure." He agreed, waving her farewell and walking straight.

He counted the rooms until he found room 218. Sliding the card down the scanner, he waited for the hiss before walking in.

It was similar to a dorm room in college. Two single beds on opposite sides of the room with a dresser each, end table, desk, and book case. It was easier to see which side was his by the obvious unoccupied aura and bare walls. Beside his bed was his things he arrived with.

Walking in, he peeked around for his roommate and smiled when he saw a familiar brown head.

"Castiel?"

Castiel, who was sitting at his desk writing something in a spiral, rotated in his chair to squint at Carlos. When recognition fled across his features, the look of nervous suspicion changed to relief.

Standing, he shook hands with Carlos. "Oh thank god. I was worried I would have this absolute jerk as my roommate."

"You and me both." Tapping a red button next to the door, Castiel waited for the door to close before sighing and changing the hand shake to a one armed hug.

"Seriously. This is great," Castiel repeated with a grin.

Carlos was glad that his roommate was in good spirits about their rooming together. If he wasn't, Carlos wouldn't have been able to do anything about it without complaining to the higher ups. He had a suspicion that nobody did complain for the fear of being disposed of and Carlos couldn't blame them. He was one of them after all.

Releasing Castiel from the hug, Carlos approached his side of the room as Castiel put away his spirals and books.

Going through his own stuff, Carlos grabbed his pajamas and went to the bathroom, located between the two beds, to change. When he returned, he was more exhausted than when he went in. This day was draining and his body finally realized that.

Castiel was already changed and watching Carlos with a knowing smirk when he exchanged the tired feeling. Carlos would have laughed if he had the energy to. At this point, all he wanted to do was sleep everything off and give his mind some time to process everything.

Flopping on the bed, Carlos curled into the comforter and sighed in content. He reached over to turn off his lamp around the same time Castiel did his.

In the quiet darkness, Carlos was ready to go to sleep. In fact, he was beginning to nod off when a voice interrupted the silence.

"So…"

Carlos looked at the direction Castiel's voice came from.

"So?"

"You and Cecil…" he began.

Carlos let out a long groan and curled back into his blanket, trying to block out the amused chuckles in Castiel's direction.

Eventually, he decided to throw one of his pillows at the man and smiled with satisfaction when a whining "Hey!" resounded in the room.


End file.
